Forward and Back
by Michi-Pichi
Summary: Souji gets off the train and goes back to the world of the city and life that used to be all too familiar. Before Inaba it was what he was used to and who he had been. He is finding that you don't just go back to being that person.
1. Homecoming

**Chapter One – Homecoming**

Nobody was at the platform to greet him as he exited the final train back to the city. He simply went along with the crowd of commuters toward the turnstiles met the same pastiche of pachinko parlors fast food restaurants and convenience stores that were there when he left. He almost jumped back in surprise when a young woman, barely college age, extended a package of tissues in his direction, an advertisement for eyeglasses.

The walk from the subway station in Asakusa to his family home was no more than ten minutes. All in silence walking among a stream of people who lacked faces or names. The entrance gate creaked slightly at first push, giving way to a flower bed overgrown with wild weeds and Souji half expected the lock to be rusted shut.  
It wouldn't have been the worst scenario.

But instead the door opened, revealing the sleek décor of a modern home, all lined in a thin film of dust. Not enough to account for a year, but his parents had hired someone to check in on the home from time to time in their absence.

"I'm home," Souji announced. This was the first time he had done so loud enough for it to echo. He must have learned to be louder after spending so much time around Yosuke and Chie. But it still echoed.

Nobody was home.

He dropped his bag next to his shoes at the foyer and took in what felt like a time capsule. White walls. Tasteful, mundane decoration. Once he ran a damp rag over the surfaces it would look like something out of a home design magazine. It was about as lived in.

His room was an extension of that. Matching, tasteful furniture rather than the self assembly shelves his uncle bought from Junes. The contents of his shelf were just as it was left with books nestled between his academic awards. No threadbare old sofa. It didn't have the faint smell of cigarette smoke and mildew. It didn't smell of anything. All clean lines and muted colors.

Respectable and proper.

As Souji settled in he wondered what his parents would say if he put up a couple of his model kid projects or made a few origami pieces to showcase how good he had gotten and add some color to the room.

Otherwise it was a matter of waiting. For his parents. For his third year to start. He stared out the window with it's view of the neighbor's house, wondering which would come first.


	2. Mother

**Chapter 2 – Mother**

His mother was the first to arrive, three days after him and one after the delivery service brought the boxes from Inaba that couldn't be managed on the train. Lugging her own oversized suitcase, she greeted her son with a quick, "Hey, good to see you again," before retreating in her home office to take a phone call.

"ur lucky partner. Girls made more Mystery Food X. Ugh." At times it felt like the texts came at such a rate that he was still in Inaba. He could smell the awful concoction and the horrified expressions as everyone, girls and boys, faced the bitter defeat. Except they weren't asking him to whip up a salvation.

Cooking wasn't something Souji thought he would miss. It was utilitarian and a necessity as he grew older and his parents fractured into their own directions and lives.

His parents were seldom around for meals. It made it easier for Souji to teach himself through middle school where the failed leftovers could just get pushed to the back of the fridge and saved for later. By the time his mother had the opportunity to have his cooking, she had marveled at how good a job he had done searing the fish just so.

Sharing meals on the rooftop started as a solution to forgetting that the Ginger Pork recipe was measured for 2 servings. He had invited Chie knowing she would gladly devour 4 extra servings of meat if offered. The long, rambling conversation covering various topics on that cool morning in April set a president. Every time Nanako came from the store he would pull out ingredients and think about which of his growing list of friends would most appreciate. Chie or Daisuke were meat. Yosuke wouldn't touch tofu. Kanji appreciated complicated and detailed dishes. Naoto liked simple and unfussy.

If his mother had come from the airport, an early dinner would be nice. Having gone to the grocers that morning, he had a range of vegetables, new rice and a fresh fish. Deciding for something simple, he went about rinsing and then steaming the rice before cleaning the fish. Chopping some vegetables, he took care in turning the fish in the skillet and being careful to not overdo the salt. Setting out two plates, everything was plated immaculately in a restaurant perfect display. His mother liked simple, beautiful things.

While the door to her office remained closed, Emiko Seta could no longer be heard speaking into her phone. Souji knocked lightly. "Mom? I made dinner, if you wanted to join me?"

The door cracked open and the middle aged woman with shocks of silver hair a shade or two lighter than Souji's emerged. He wondered if her eyes were always that dark underneath or if it was just a change in makeup. "I'm sorry. There're still a few loose ends I need to take care of in the office." He brought him in for a brief hug, "we'll catch up later."

Half a fish ended up wrapped up and in the back of the fridge that night.


	3. Father

**Chapter 3 - Father**

Four nights later, Masahiro Seta set the creaking hinge off, the surprise leading to the door slamming shut with more force than intended. It was a commotion that was able to wake Souji from the dead. He blinked the sleep out of his time in time to his father's footsteps up the stairs. Three… Four...

After the 9th step, Souji got out of bed so that by the time his father got on the thirteenth step he could open the door and say "Dad?"

The man was spooked and grabbed the banister for support to avoid a tumble. "Souji. Sorry I woke you. Go to sleep."

"Were you heading straight to bed?" Sure it was late and he would pay for it on his first day of school tomorrow, but there was something enchanting about those rare twilight hours. He and his uncle were able to speak more freely with Nanako fast asleep and the peaceful quiet of the home uninterrupted by calls. He was missing having a reason to chat over a hot mug of coffee in the wee hours of the morning.

His father nodded, "Well, I'm glad to see you. We'll catch up in the morning."

Souji nodded, "I look forward to it." He had a few things to say about the past year and wanted to ask his dad about getting to teach neurosurgery in Los Angeles.

The next morning Souji was up thirty minutes earlier than he needed to be only for the house to be empty. He expected to find his father hunched over a newspaper with some coffee at this hour, but only his half full cup remained on the counter, next to a stack of books.

It made sense that his father would bring back some English novels after the trip. Even if Souji's accent was thick from a lack of use, he could at least maintain familiarity through written material. It came in handy during those long nights translating colloquialisms into something more natural. He sent a few of the better examples to his Dad awhile back.

On top were manuals and study materials for the TOEFL exam. Beneath it cram materials and study guides for the college entrance exam. That was when Souji saw the note weighted down by the coffee cup.

"I picked these up for you so you can study. Let's discuss college programs when I'm around."

His phone buzzed from an incoming text, _'Senpai, need ur addy to send VIP tix for comeback concert. Send w a pic of your new uni plz. 3'_ Rise was worse than Yosuke when it came to shortening words.

 _'Great. I'll be there.'_


	4. Third Year

**Chapter 4 – Year Three**

The first day of school started with a reintroduction to some of his old classmates in 3rd Year Class D. Even with the familiar faces, it was like starting anew. Was that Sakura only with a haircut or someone else altogether? Actually her name may have been Sayoko. He took a seat at the end of the class with no fanfare. There was no reason to be mouthy to the teacher who was calm, professional and normal in every respect.

He was privileged to be in one of the best private schools in the country. One where the only students that didn't get into Todai, Waseda or Keio were the ones who hightailed it overseas to study in one of the Ivies or other acclaimed institutions of higher learning.

There were no note passing or opportunities to smuggle the correct answer to a distracted classmate. Without exception they were alert, aware and engaged to make sure they did what was expected of them.

Here Souji had been only a top 5 student rather than the stunning ace and master of all subjects. The curriculum in Inaba had been a reprieve. There was no need for such rigor when most of the students would remain in the countryside working in small businesses. Even of those going to a college, it was accepted that most would end up in one of the small local colleges in Aichi. A few students each year ended up going to somewhat larger schools in Nagano, Osaka or Tokyo, but getting into simply a good enough school would suffice.

"Did you know the best American or British universities rank above Todai nowadays?" his father stated, out of the blue one morning in the few minutes between finishing his coffee and heading out the door for work.

"Not that Todai is… inferior…" his father said, pausing on the last word as if trying to be easier understood. He was making a point of using English during more of these conversations that Souji would nod along, understanding but seldom replying.

The best university in Japan would be good enough.

Attempts to engage in conversations were met with polite introductions and a few questions about subject manner. During lunch the roof was a cluster of kids buried in textbooks or brows furrowed going over index cards as they shoveled convenience store bento into their mouths.

After being rebuffed by several classmates, always in the politest terms with incredulous faces that said, 'you can't possibly have time either' that he found himself spending a bit more time on the Calculus text and polishing off as much homework possible to reduce what he would have to find time for after cram school.

He was on the train en route to his second day in Shinjuku when another text came in, this one from Kanji, ' _Yo. How'd ya first couple days go? Bet you're already made friends with everyone. Miss ya.'_

At first Souji tapped out the truth. That he was already too busy with cram school and everyone was in the same boat. ' _A little lonely'_ was one descriptor that came naturally. Before hitting the send button his body ended up jostled by the mass of people getting on and off the train, nearly sending the phone tumbling to the floor. The message ended up deleted as he put it back in his pocket. It was inconsiderate to complain in public anyway.

As he entered the new classroom he went to turn the volume off but instead sent a shorter reply. _'it went well. Busy. Looking forward to Golden Week. Take care.'_


End file.
